When we were young
by Zeher
Summary: An old childhood friend. A pair of convicts. Horror. Pain. Silent Hill. How on earth was a veterinarian student supposed to survive this? OC pairings.
1. Chapter 1

AN: So, this is an old story of mine. Old old old. Needs to be heavily reworked, so I figured why not. Gives me a break from writing other things. The characters are all original, though obviously, the story of Silent Hill is not!

 **Chapter 1**

"We're moving."

Just shy of ten, the two children had no way of realizing just how horrible life could be.

The little girl, a quiet thing that always listened to her parents, blindly gripped the little boy's hand tightly in her own, her palms growing sweaty. Wordlessly, she gazed up at her parents, who were doing their best in the first place to avoid the gaze of the small child.

The little boy, however, chose his own route.

"You can't!" he shouted, throwing his little fists into the air, ripping his hand away from the little girl. "Kara is my friend, she's my friend and you can't take her away!" he shrieked, flinging his small body to the soft carpet, tiny fists pounding uselessly against the rug.

While he pitched a fit, the little girl watched her parents leave in silence. Why did they want to take her away from him? She wondered, staring down at the floor. Had she misbehaved? Had she done poorly in school?

She squatted down next to the tantrum throwing little boy, reaching out again for his hand. His own felt so small and frail in hers, pale where hers were kissed by the sun. A small, frail little boy, with dark brown curls that bounced upon his head like the slinkies she had often played with. Kara would be alright. She made friends with the ease of walking down the street.

The little boy, however, did not.

Jonathon had been bullied endlessly at school until Kara stepped in. They stuck together like glue, despite Kara's own friends being terrified of the young, frail boy. They called him strange, weird—ghost boy, even. To Kara, he was simply her friend.

Kara didn't understand that her dad was being transferred across the country. She didn't really comprehend that she'd never see Jonathon again. To her, all she saw was a sad little boy that needed a hug.

Unfortunately, a hug would do nothing to help the crying boy knelt down in the street, watching a car drive away.

* * *

"Geez. Me, going on a field trip in college? I feel like I'm ten again." At the sound of his chirper voice, blue eyes flicked across the way, settling on the young man plopping down in the cushioned seat next to her. The young woman closed her book, smiling brightly as she turned towards him, tucking her legs beneath her.

"Are you really complaining, Charlie?" she teased, poking him slightly. The bus suddenly lurched, sending her flying forward into Charlie's larger arm. He'd reacted quicker than her; not surprising, considering her reflexes more or less resembled a turtle. "Oof," she grunted, cringing slightly as her ashy blonde hair fell forward in her eyes.

"Nope!" he finally answered after she had settled back in her seat. He dragged his fingers through his hair, despite the fact that it was buzzed so shortly now that he couldn't even lift a single strand. "In fact, not only do we get to help out a bunch of the animals at the zoo, but our hotel…" he paused, leaning down slightly to meet the shorter woman. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Has a pool!"

"It's fifty four out. Hope you've got your own personal heater." Charlie snorted, averting his eyes from the young woman and folding his hands behind his head.

"Please, Kara. West Virginia's got nothing on a pure blooded Canadian like me," he said, jerking his nose in the air. Kara laughed, stretching her arms high above her head. They ached with disuse, popping and releasing the discomfort that had been bound about them.

"All I care about is getting off this bus. It's been like…twelve hours now…" she trailed off as she noticed the dark haired man's attention wavering. His chocolate eyes had settled further towards the front of the bus, focusing pointedly on the back of a red haired young woman seated just a few rows ahead of them. The corners of her lips twitched. "Enjoying the view, Charlie?"

"Yeah, the mountains are nice," he muttered, eyes clouded over slightly. Kara chuckled to herself, slinking back against her seat and letting her eyes shift to the window. The trees outside were a variety of colors—reds, oranges, yellows—it was like looking at a painting. Her thoughts drifted to the heavy textbook she knew weighed down her satchel; she wrinkled her nose at the idea of studying right now.

Most of the students seemed to agree with her. She had seen maybe one person with their zoology textbook out, and that had actually been the professor. A fieldtrip for fieldwork was right up her alley; after all, their professor had stressed time and time again how competitive graduate school was, despite the fact that only a small portion of them were even thinking about it.

Kara included.

She shifted, brushing off some of the lint from Charlie's sweater off of the faux fur attached to the collar of her jacket. It clung like glue, red fibers obnoxious amongst the sand-colored faux fur. Her eyes moved back to the love-struck twenty four year old next to her. A tan Italian raised in Canada, he was a broad-shouldered dark haired beauty that was surprisingly single. Freckles dotted his nose, though they did little to match the splatter that encompassed Kara's own face and shoulders.

As she was admiring her best friend, the bus suddenly screeched a halt, albeit much more sharply and violently than earlier. Once again, Charlie's hand immediately shot out, sending her crashing into his stiff arm. She groaned as her chest ached, though like the gentlemen he was, Charlie said nothing about her breasts being crushed against him.

Instead, they exchanged looks, lips pursed firmly and eyebrows drawn close. The bus erupted in shouts of annoyance and surprise, students standing up, some peering out the window. The professor began to shout, standing up, waving his arms.

"Will everyone please, shut the hell up!?" the British professor screamed. A usually quiet man, the bus immediately fell silent. Only when the college students had settled did he clear his throat, older eyes shifting across the bus. "Thank you. The bus is having a few technical difficulties, really. It shouldn't be too long…correct?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder. The driver gave him a nervous looking thumbs up, sweat pouring from his forehead.

Kara resisted the urge to groan with the rest of her classmates, sagging in her seat. Sore and tired, all she wanted to do was get out of the bus and finally stretch her legs. The blond haired woman watched with pursed lips as the professor and bus driver stepped outside the bus, flashlights in hand.

"You okay, Sam? You didn't bump your head or anything, did you?" Kara felt her stomach turn at the sound of his voice. She turned her head, discovering that her partner in crime had slunk over to the red-head, bent over her seat.

"I'm fine…" Sam said slowly, raising her eyebrows. "But who are you again?"

Kara was glad she couldn't see the look on Charlie's face.

"Charlie…" His voice was broken, shaking. It wasn't often that his voice shuddered; it made her heart sink. "We've had a class together every year since freshmen year." As quickly as she covered it up with a flick of her hair, Kara didn't miss the look of realization that flashed across Sam's face.

"Oh yeah, now I remember you. Thanks for asking. I'm fine."

And that was it.

Charlie admitted defeat, turning away from the red haired woman and slumping back towards their seat. He plopped down, keeping his eyes forward and straight, avoiding looking at Kara in the slightest. She chewed down on her lower lip, thoughts whirling. She settled on grabbing his hand instead, holding it tightly in her much small one; his was sweating profusely.

Kara stayed silent, knowing that words would do nothing for him. But to her surprise, he spoke first.

"Four years, Kar." His voice was quiet, words cold. It brought shivers down her spine. "I've liked that woman for four years, talked to her in every class, and she still doesn't know my goddamn name." She was at a loss for words; the best she could manage was squeezing his hand tightly, surprised when he actually squeezed back. She could give him the age old speech about how there were plenty of fish in the sea, but that sounded redundant, at this point.

"Do you think Professor Sham is okay out there?" The silence was broken by Sam's louder voice. Murmurs followed, students shifting uncomfortably. Sam was staring silently out the window, jaw clenched tightly. "Maybe someone should check on him?"

Those rumors about her sleeping with the professor were beginning to look truer by each passing minute. Perfect grades like hers didn't come from someone who spent most of their nights partying. And the look of pain crossing Charlie's face was evidence enough.

"Hey, where are you going, Sam?!" The two friends glanced up as the red-head stood, bolting towards the door of the bus. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, glancing back towards the female student who had yelled at her; she drew her eyebrows close, pale complexion growing slightly rosy.

"I need to make sure he's okay!"

Without a second thought, the young woman dashed down the stairs and out the door.

Charlie instinctively stood, though he didn't bolt right away. Instead, he looked down at Kara, furrowing his eyebrows. Kara grabbed on tightly to his hand, tugging slightly.

"Don't chase her Charlie…please don't. She'll be fine out there," Kara said quietly, doing her best to keep her voice from entering into any unwelcomed earshot.

"They've been out there for an hour already, Kara. The professor should've come in for an update at some point, and now Sam's out there alone!" he said loudly, ripping his hand from her grasp. Momentarily stunned, she watched her best friend leap out the door, taking the stairs two at a time. Regaining her composure, she bound from her seat, cursing under her breath.

"Charlie!" she shouted as she ran down the stairs.

The terrible feeling whirling in her gut should've been heeded.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Even without reviews, I'll be pumping these out just because I've already got it typed up: all I'm doing is just reworking bad things and making the story a little bit less cheesy LOL

 **Chapter 2**

It was nearly pitch black outside, save for the flickering old street lamp hanging high above the bus. She stumbled over something solid, flailing her arms in order to keep herself steady. Kara's eyes moved wildly as she tried to adjust to the heavy darkness. Charlie hadn't made it far, looking around desperately underneath the street light. A heavy fog had set in, hanging around his waist, slowly draping up to his head.

"Sam!" he shouted, turning his head this way and that. "Sam, where are you?!" As she approached her best friend, her heart ached. It wasn't fair to him, she thought, walking slowly towards his large back.

Her foot slammed into something solid, heavy. It rolled across the ground and into the dim streetlight. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she crouched down just as Charlie turned around. Her small hands wrapped around the plastic flash light, trembling slightly. She heard the crunch of his boots on the gravel; he crouched down in front of her, eyes widening.

"What the hell…?" he breathed, while Kara silently agreed. There was nothing odd looking about the flashlight, no blood or anything present; Kara flipped it on, satisfied it at least still worked. She straightened her body, pointing the flashlight towards the darkened road. A vicious wind whipped through them, forcing her to pull the light by her side and huddle in her coat.

"You didn't see any of them?" she shuddered, keeping her head bowed. Charlie huffed.

"No…nothing. I didn't even see that flashlight until you picked it up." He turned slightly from her, towards the road in front of them. He gazed off in the distance, lips drawn tight, wrinkles of worry creasing his eyes. Right before her eyes, his lips parted, eyes widening.

Kara followed his gaze, squinted into the darkness. For a moment, she saw nothing. Then the shadows shifted, and the familiar silhouette of the red haired woman stood stiff. The shadows casting upon her from the street lamp were haunting, hiding her eyes, revealing only the lips pressed into a wide smile. Kara felt cold, chills crawling up her flesh. She reached out to Charlie, hoping to pull him away, but he was too fast.

"Sam!" Charlie shouted, taking off after the red-head into the darkness.

Samantha turned tail and ran.

"W-Wait, Sam!" Charlie pleaded, hesitating only for a split second before he started pumping his long legs, boots slamming on the pavement.

"Charlie, stop!" Kara shouted after him. Her own sneakers slammed against the solid pavement as she jerked her shorter legs, feeling the sting of a lack of exercise almost instantly. After only a few minutes of sprinting, her side began to tighten, a stitch forming in her ribs. "Dammit," she wheezed, grabbing her side with a wrinkled expression. She was beginning to curse her choice in friends; a quiet bookworm generally didn't get along with a class A track star, but for some reason for them, it just clicked.

It wasn't doing her any favors, however.

Charlie's voice had started to sound hoarse in the distance. Kara could scarcely see him in front of her—especially with the heavy fog—and she didn't have the breath to scream for him. Lungs burning, her eyes scanned the passing faded road sign just for a second. In peeling white letters, it barely read _Silent Hill._

The mountains were becoming shorter as they got higher. The fog grew thicker still, almost completely encompassing the surrounding environment. Kara could scarcely see anything in front of her. She would've felt fear in the pit of her stomach had she not been focusing on not passing out. Cringing, she inhaled sharply.

"C-Charlie, please stop!" she gasped, worried her wheezing voice wouldn't reach him. To her surprise, however, he skidded to a stop, allowing Kara to move forward enough to collapse to her knees, gasping for air. Hands on the pavement, she wheezed, her head feeling light. Never had she ran that far in her life; already, she was plotting in her head how to get Charlie back for this.

But Charlie, however, had more things on his mind. He was standing still, head turning rapidly. It was evident to Kara that he had lost her, but that wasn't what worried her. As she raised her head, still panting, she took in her own surroundings. She had no earthly idea where they had ended up; the map hadn't even mentioned a nearby town in the first place.

The town, however, seemed to be abandoned. Cars lay still with open doors, keys still in the ignition. Trash scattered quietly across the asphalt, flowing out of overfilled trashcans. The streetlights still worked, thankfully, but they were just about as dim as the one they had parked under. Her breathing sounded oddly ear shattering; there weren't even any crickets chirping.

To her, it was like the town itself lay dead.

"Why'd she keep running, Kara?"

His thoughts ripped her from her own. Finally having caught her breath, she got from her knees, brushing dirt off her worn jeans. As much as she wanted to comfort Charlie, she was more concerned with getting out of the town. Something wasn't right.

"I…don't know, Charlie, but we really need to get back-"

"Look, I know you think it's dumb for me to chase after her," he suddenly snapped, growing stiff. She flinched. "But I can't have anything happen to her, no matter what…"

Kara did find it incredibly idiotic. She didn't see what he saw in her. She saw a selfish, rude, woman. He saw the love of his life. She'd spent years letting him pawn after her, but she was about at her limit. She pursed her lips, feeling her stomach turn.

"You need to give up on her, Charlie! Look where she's dragged us!" Kara yelled, flinging her arms around. Her voice echoed in the heavy silence, the fog feeling more like an amplifier than anything. As she expected, Charlie's face grew red. Snarling, he spun on his heel, putting his back to her; she felt sick.

"Screw you, Kara. I'll go find her myself!" Before she could even yell, he took off at a sprint. She stood still, listening to the sound of his footsteps grow quieter with every passing second. The regret weighed heavily on her body, dragging her down to the ground. Her knees hit the pavement painfully, eyes wide.

She was alone.

* * *

Every sound made her jump. Her voice had grown hoarse from yelling for him, rewarded only with the sound of her own echo. Tears had long since begun running from her eyes. Whether they were from guilt or terror, she wasn't sure; she just knew she needed to find Charlie as quickly as she could.

The only thing her phone was useful for was the time. It had been three hours since they'd left the bus, and her battery life was dwindling; the reception was nonexistent. She was thankful she at least had the flashlight, but even then, the light was flickering. She knew she didn't have much time left.

She cringed as her bladder ached.

Drinking those three bottles of soda in a few hours was starting to come back to bite her in the ass. She squirmed as she walked, coming to a slow halt.

"Dammit…I need to pee…" she muttered, eyes wandering. She hadn't seen a single soul once since they'd arrived, so she knew waiting for a restroom wasn't going to be an issue. So she stopped in the first shop she found, lights peering through the boarded up windows. She hesitated upon seeing the boards, but another sharp pain in her bladder made her think otherwise.

It looked to be an old bookstore, a familiar sight that slowed the nervous butterflies in her stomach. It smelled of paper and old incense, books laid scattered throughout. She headed straight for the back, seeing the restroom sign immediately. Letting out a sigh of relief, she paused, considering knocking. Shaking her head, Kara opened the door, stepping inside.

She made a dash for the stall, quickly slamming the door shut and struggling out of her skinny jeans. As soon as she started, she let out a loud sigh. Another minute and she would've surely pissed herself.

As she trudged over to the sink, her thoughts whirled. Sure, she could relate to Charlie. She'd fallen for the bad boy more than once in her life, but he hadn't hesitated to tell her to dump them. Of course she hadn't listened, and of course he'd been right. But it irritated her to no end that he'd done the same thing to her.

Yet she couldn't get that hurt expression out of her mind.

Her blue eyes were dim in her reflection, dark circles present under both from the lack of sleep she'd gotten on the bus. She pulled at her disheveled hair, grabbing the hair tie off of her wrist and threading her fingers through her hair. She pulled it up into a high ponytail, satisfied to have the heavy mane off of her back.

Kara stepped out of bathroom, rubbing her tired eyes. Already eleven o'clock, she thought. Had they started to look for them? Had the professor made it back to the bus?

A crash from outside tore her from her thoughts. A muffled moan followed, slamming against the door of the store. Heart racing, she dashed over to the door, quickly flicking all three locks. This made the person on the other side groan louder, slamming harder against the door, rattling the wood. She clamped her hand over her mouth, her stomach twisting.

"W-What is that?!" she breathed, stumbling backwards. The door wouldn't hold it forever—she knew that just by the way the hinges hung loosely. Her mind started to reel. She glanced over her shoulder, spotting the storage room tucked away in the corner. It would be less obvious than the bathroom, she thought, dashing towards it.

She flung the door open, lurching inside the stale smelling closet and slamming the door shut behind her. She dared not turn on the light; she stood stiff, breath coming out haggard, listening to the thud of the creature against the door.

She felt cold metal press against the back of her head, along with the click of a hammer.

"Unless you want a bullet in your head, prove to me you're human," whispered a low, monotone voice in her ear. His words were proof enough that the creature outside wasn't some drunken buffoon, but she was worried more about the gun pressed to her head rather than it, at this point. Stammering, she grew stiff.

"I-I'm hiding from it! Isn't that proof enough?!" she whispered shakily, panic causing her voice to quiver. Before the man behind her could answer, she heard the door to the store collapse to the floor with a deafening bang that silenced them both. The man holding the gun to her head stiffened.

"You could easily be another trick by this goddamn town…" Tears followed his words. She was sure her mascara had begun to run, making her look more like a raccoon than anything. All she could think of was Charlie and how she had hurt him. How her last words to him could be so cruel, so selfish—  
"P-Please, my friend's still out there, I need to find him," she begged, not caring how pathetic she looked to him. Her words came out strung together, quivering, melding.

Whether it was the creature outside or her words that reached him, she wasn't sure. But something made him remove the gun from her head. She sagged, letting out a shaky breath. The closet suddenly shook and shuddered, a moan outside cutting short her relief.

"Ohgodohgodohgodohgod," she panicked, stumbling back against the man. His form was solid, not a speck of fat on him. He grabbed her, stabilizing her with a low grunt. Her face flushed.

"We need to leave, now."

She wasn't about to argue.

"I'll open the door on three. Two shots. We run. Alright?" His words were quick, quiet. All she could do was robotically nod her head, despite the fact that she knew he couldn't see it. She hadn't realized he wanted her to move until he wrapped his hands around her waist, maneuvering her to his spot while he moved in front. She felt much more secure behind him, wrapping her arms around herself.

"One…"

A muffled sob from her hand.

"Two."

A deep inhale.

"And three!"

Her heart nearly stopped as he flung the door open, light pouring into the room and revealing the shiny pistol she had felt against her head. The shots were deafeningly loud, thundering in her ears. She couldn't see over the man, but she followed him the instant he started running.

Only when she glanced briefly over her shoulder as they passed through the doorway did she see a shuffling body. There was nothing human about it, at least not anymore. It had no arms, just legs shoved awkwardly into a torso. Tumorous looking growths sprouted from its neck, glowing bright orange and swelling as it moaned. She forced herself to look away, feeling sick.

They didn't stop running until the store was out of sight. Kara's chest continued to burn as they ran, though the pain was the furthest thing from her mind. Her eyes were frozen on his back, wide and fearful.

Brunette, short hair. Tall. Athletic build.

And an orange shirt with the numbers 18934 in bright, white letters.

Against her better judgement, she screeched to a halt. He immediately picked up on it, slowing down, though he didn't turn around just yet. He stood there, shoulders moving up and down rapidly, his breath coming out just as short as hers was.

"It's either this monster…" he panted, shoulders still heaving. "Or the one in there. Which do you prefer?"

She jerked slightly, taken aback by his bold, brash words. She watched the man raise his shoulders high and then drop them with a heavy sigh. They had finally caught their breath, but even now, her own felt caught in her throat. She tensed as he finally turned to face her, only one hazel eye exposed under his mop of choppy brown hair.

A large scar ran down his cheek from the exposed side, fresh pink and jagged. She wondered absentmindedly if his other eye was damaged in a similar way. His skin was paler than hers, standing in sharp contrast to his dark brown hair. The man merely stared at her, his body worn, jumpsuit covered in filth and grime. The pistol hung loosely in his left hand.

He was expecting an answer.

The streetlamps were haunting, but he stood just right so that she could see every bit of his features. His gaze was steely, unblinking; she had to look to the side, anywhere but that cold eye. Her options were limited. If there were more creatures like swarming around, she was defenseless without a weapon. Even with one, there was no guarantee she'd even be able to fight it off. But he had a gun. And he was more decently built than she.

And he could be her only chance to find Charlie.

Inhaling sharply, she looked back at him, finding impatience etched across his face that made her flinch slightly. The last thing she wanted to do was piss off a convicted felon.

"Can you…help me find my friend first?"

"No." His answer startled her. She outwardly gasped, eyes widening. Her heart thudded against her chest as she searched his eyes for any sign of joking; his single visible one remained cold, steely. He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eye. "I don't have time to find anyone else. If you haven't noticed, we're the only humans here; we're as good as dead if we don't get out."

"But we can't just leave him-"

"How long has it been since you've seen him?" At first, she just stared at him, lips parted. Her mouth had run dry. Robotically, she pulled her phone from her pocket, eyes flicking down to the screen. Ten percent left. And it was already eleven thirty.

"…Three and a half hours."

"If he's not dead, he's in hell," the convict muttered, sliding the pistol into the belt of his orange pants. His eye flicked back up to her, lips pressed into a thin line. "I've been stuck here for a day. I already had to leave one behind and he…" he trailed off. The man licked his dry lips. "Are you with me or not?" It physically hurt her to answer. She clenched her fists down at her sides, shaking her head.

"I-I need to find Charlie, I can't-"

"I won't even begin to explain how foolish that is," he responded coolly. Her body grew warm. "Here's a tip then: suicide isn't the worst thing here."

His words chilled her.

She stood silent in the streets as he walked off, footsteps echoing in the silence. Once again, she felt like her decision had been the wrong one, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. So instead, she turned her back, going the opposite direction as the convict, her head held low.


End file.
